The air remained heavy as Velara Nost led the Legion deeper into the fractured landscape of the Forgotten Plains. The Mnemonics' glowing fragments faded behind them, but their presence lingered like an afterimage burned into Thales's mind. His Umwelt flickered faintly, the sigil on his chest pulsing with chaotic energy that refused to settle.
Kael walked beside him, his steps deliberate but relaxed, the smirk never quite leaving his face. Every so often, Thales could feel Kael's bloodshot eyes on him—like a predator watching its prey. The silence between them stretched, but it wasn't idle; Kael's aura carried with it an unspoken tension, a weight that gnawed at Thales's resolve.
"You think they were soldiers?" Thales said finally, his voice low but steady. "They weren't. They were protecting something."
Kael laughed, sharp and unkind, cutting through the stillness.
"Protecting what? Memories? Relics? Doesn't matter. They're weak. And weakness doesn't deserve mercy."
Thales turned to him, his Umwelt sparking faintly.
"Maybe strength isn't about destroying everything in your path."
Kael's smirk widened, his crimson eyes glinting like embers.
"Spoken like someone who's never had to claw his way out of the dirt. Let me tell you something, Miray—strength is the only thing that matters out here. And if you're not willing to use it, you'll get left behind… or worse."
Thales didn't respond. His gaze fixed on the shifting horizon.
But the pull of the Mnemonics' cultivation still lingered—like a phantom, or a question he didn't know how to answer.
His silence seemed to amuse Kael, who shook his head and let the conversation lapse.
Later, beneath the jagged remains of a ruined spire, the Legion made camp.
Kael sat apart from the others, his shadowy fur coat pooling around him like smoke. Thales approached cautiously. The tension between them from earlier still hung thick in the air.
Kael glanced up as Thales neared, his wicked grin flickering before fading.
"You've got questions," he said simply, quieter than usual.
Thales hesitated, then sat across from him. "Why are you here?"
Kael's bloodshot eyes narrowed, the smirk returning faintly. "The Kaiser sent me to keep an eye on you. But you already knew that."
"That's not what I meant," Thales pressed. "Why do you fight like this? What's the point?"
For a long moment, Kael didn't answer. His gaze drifted toward the chaotic winds twisting across the Plains.
When he finally spoke, his voice was edged with something that could almost be called bitterness.
"Once, I thought fighting was the point. That the only way to prove you existed was to carve your name into the bones of the world."
He leaned back slightly, crimson eyes distant.
"Then I met someone who showed me how wrong I was."
Thales's Umwelt flared. "Who?"
Kael's grin returned, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Your father. Ghalib Miray."
The words hit like a blow. Thales inhaled sharply.
"You fought my father?"
Kael laughed, low and bitter.
"Fought? That's one way to put it. I was just a wild dog back then—tearing through everything in my path. Thought I was unstoppable."
He shook his head, the memory burning behind his eyes.
"He didn't just beat me. He didn't even bother finishing me off. Called me a mangy mutt. Said I wasn't worth the effort."
Thales's Umwelt flickered again, the weight of those words settling over him.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Kael's smile faded. His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Because you've got the same look he did. Like you think there's more to strength than blood and chaos. Maybe there is... but if you don't figure it out soon—this place will chew you up and spit you out."
The silence stretched long after Kael's voice faded. Thales said nothing. But the shape of his father's shadow loomed larger than ever.
The next day, the Legion moved onward.
The fractured ground began to stabilize. The chaotic winds fell quiet. And in the distance, crystalline spires rose like the bones of a forgotten titan—each pulsing faintly with light, with memory.
Thales's chest tightened. His Umwelt sparked.
The Mnemonics' presence was here. He could feel it.
The crystalline spires shimmered, their surfaces etched with preserved memories—stories woven into stone and stream, glowing softly against the ruinous dusk.
Thales stood at the edge of the outpost. He could hear the echo of the Mnemonics' cultivation humming within the structure—like a warning, or a hymn.
Velara Nost stepped forward. Her fragmented robe rippled like torn silk, her gaze razor-sharp as she gestured toward the spires.
"This is what they were protecting," she said. Her voice was calm, but cold. "Fragments of a broken world. Memories that should have been left to fade."
Kael moved beside her, bloodshot eyes narrowing.
"Looks fragile enough. One good push, and it all comes down."
Velara allowed herself a faint smile.
"It's not the strength of the structure that matters. It's the delusion of those who built it. They cling to these memories as if they'll save them. As if they mean anything."
Thales's chest tightened.
His Umwelt surged—echoes of memory brushing past him like ghosts. Each fragment pulsed with meaning.
"What if they do matter?" he asked quietly.
Velara turned to him, her fragmented symbols flickering.
"Do they? Look around you, Miray. The Plains are littered with the remains of worlds. Of timelines. Of lives no one remembers."
"Memory is a chain. It binds us to a past that no longer exists—illusions of meaning that are nothing but shackles."
Thales met her gaze. His Umwelt sparked with defiance.
"And without memory, what are we?"
His voice was steady.
"Just fragments ourselves. Scattered. Lost."
Velara's smile disappeared.
"Without memory, we are free. Free to move forward. To embrace chaos without burden. The Legion understands that. You would do well to remember it."
A glow emanated from the centre of the spires.
Thales's Umwelt flared.
A figure stepped forward—robes stitched with memory fragments. In their hands: a crystalline shard, pulsing softly with light.
The Mnemonics' leader.
"You think memory is a chain," they said, voice solemn. "But it is also a foundation. Without it, there is nothing to build on. Nothing to guide us."
Velara's aura hardened.
"And yet here you are—clinging to what should have been forgotten. You'll find no salvation here."
The Mnemonic leader raised the shard. Energy coalesced around it—protective, final.
"This shard contains the truth of this plane's collapse. The memory of what must not be repeated. You call it a chain. But it is a warning."
Kael grinned, his aura igniting with chaos.
"A warning, huh? Let's see if it's worth keeping."
Thales's Umwelt flickered violently.
Velara's cold logic.
Kael's hunger for dominance.
The Mnemonics' final stand.
His father's silence.
The line between destruction and preservation grew thinner with every breath.
He thought of Kael's laughter, of Velara's hollow certainty. Of the memory shard pulsing like a dying heartbeat.
If memory was a chain… maybe it was the only thing keeping them from vanishing into the abyss.
Maybe what they needed wasn't freedom from the past—but the courage to carry it.
Without a word, Thales stepped forward.
The sigil on his chest flared. Temporal Rift Navigation activated. The air blurred.
In a single movement, he twisted the currents of chaos—reshaping the battlefield just long enough.
A shield bloomed. The Mnemonic leader and the shard were enveloped.
"Go," Thales said, voice steady. "Take it and run."
The Mnemonic leader hesitated.
Then vanished.
Silence fell.
Velara turned to him slowly. Her robe shimmered with restrained fury.
"What have you done?"
Thales met her gaze.
"They were no threat. The outpost is destroyed. The mission is complete."
"You let them escape. You interfered."
Kael chuckled behind them, leaning casually against the rubble.
"Well, that was unexpected. Guess the kid's got a soft spot."
Velara didn't take her eyes off Thales. Her voice was like frost.
"The Kaiser will hear of this."
Thales nodded. Calm. Composed.
"Let him. I stand by my actions."
Velara's fragmented form rippled—then turned away.
"We'll see how long you last, Miray."
Kael's chaotic grin widened as he stepped past him.
"Heh. Maybe your father wasn't wrong to spare me after all. Let's see if you're worth the same mercy."
As they disappeared into the shadows, Thales remained still.
The sigil on his chest burned softly. His Umwelt pulsed.
He could still feel the glow of the shard fading into the distance. Still feel the weight of the path he had chosen.
The Forgotten Plains were far from done with him.
But he had made his choice.
For now… that would have to be enough.